


Red Isn't My Favourite Colour

by silentdroplets



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blood, Fluff and Angst, I need to cry, M/M, Stabstab, The phone call made me cry, that phone call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdroplets/pseuds/silentdroplets
Summary: Well.This is bad.Very bad.Well.There’s so much red.Viktor decides red won’t be his favourite colour after this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noitratoxin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noitratoxin/gifts).



 

It’s a bright day, the sky free from the usual clouds that choke its presence.

Viktor’s bright too, excited for the little practice skate he’s going to have with Yuri at the rink. He grins to himself as he strolls along the beach, staring at the shimmering waves in front of him. Oceans are beautiful, he thinks. They’re so vast, calming, soothing. 

Reminds him of the time Yuri told him to stay Viktor, to not change for anyone or anything. Well, he’s changed - from the shackled skater, bound to the ice and forced smiles and screaming fans, an empty husk, to the man he is now. 

A man of love. 

He loves Yuri so, so much.

He catches sight of a figure in the distance. She’s running towards him, waving, stumbling through some sand piles random kids probably made while kicking up the beach and making a fuss. He waves back and waits for her to approach.

She does.

She’s panting, smiling at Viktor while doing so, and, burbling, asks for an autograph. She extends a small postcard to him. It has a picture of him on it. That picture of him skating during the Grand Prix Finals _years_ back. Well. That certainly brings back _good_ memories.

He inhales and puts on his best, heart-melting, charismatic, Viktor-Nikiforov-the-best-skater-in-the-world smile. Then he signs the damn thing.

She lets out a little squeal and stuffs it back into her coat pocket.

Well, isn’t she the most enthusiastic fan ever, he thinks. But he’s used to it, so he just keeps up the smile. 

He badly wants to get to Yuri’s side now.

The fan’s still in front of him, fumbling with something in her coat. Is she not going to just leave with the postcard and stop blocking his way? _There’s an emergency, woman, Yuri’s waiting for me._

And then she pulls out something.

He can barely make sense of anything when she pulls out that knife and digs the sharp thing into his abdomen. Or chest. Or hip. Whatever. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t care. All he feels is numbness. Everything is numb.

He can barely hear her crazed laughter and cries, but he does. Something along the lines of “we don’t need a gay couple in the country” and “Yuri belongs to us, the females”. 

Wow, he didn’t know Yuri was so popular with the fans. He chuckles to himself.

And the pain strikes.

Okay, so it might be too much for him to handle, so he lets out a gasp for the first time he’s ever made a sound in front of the woman. He can’t pinpoint the source of the pain, though. It’s spreading throughout his whole body. Ouch, oh no, oh god.

The woman snickers as she watches his face contort to one of agony and twists her wrist, such that the blade’s lodged in deeper and she hears him grunt one last time before he collapses to his knees.

“That’ll teach you,” she says, tugging the knife out of him. “That’ll teach you.”

_Teach me **what?**_

He makes an attempt to grab at the blade, but his hand is so numb it meets only air and nothing else. Then his face is met with the grainy sand.

He hears the woman leave, cackling to herself. And he sees the red sand.

He’s bleeding.

The strange feeling of something warm enveloping his front as pain pumps through like there’s no tomorrow. He hates it.

Oh. Yuri.

Yuri.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s reaching for the phone in his coat pocket and pulls it out. With all the strength he’s got, he dials Yuri. Not the ambulance. Yuri. Please, Yuri, pick up, pick up, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Viktor?”  
  
“Oh - Hi, Yuri.”

“Viktor, why are you not here yet?”

He swallows. The ocean in front of him is getting blurry, the world around him is getting darker, he can’t feel his legs. But he has to keep going.

“I’m at the ocean,” he gasps out, trying to keep his voice level. He’s relieved at how that turned out.

“And for what?” he hears. A chuckle resounds from the phone, and he laughs too. Time’s running out.

“Nah, nothing much, just know that I love you.”

“Viktor-“

“I love you so, so much.”

“Hurry, okay? Yurio seems kinds of pissed at you for being late.”

“I love you.”

And he ends the call and everything turns to black.

~~~~~~

“That darned old man! What’s he going to come in with, a whole bunch of flowers he’s handpicked just for you, katsudon?” 

“Maybe he’s being held up and is coming right now.”

“Right.”

It’s unusual for Viktor to come this late - he just went out for a little walk to enjoy the weather while Yuri went early to practise a bit. Where exactly is he? Why did he end the call so abruptly?

Then he hears Yakov calling his name.

He turns around and skates out of the rink, only to see the old man’s face frowning and waving a blue phone - _his_ handphone. “Yuri, the phone call’s for you.”

He thanks Yakov and holds his phone up to his ear.

“Katsuki Yuri?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“This is the St. Petersburg General Hospital. It’s about Viktor Nikiforov-“

He falls to his knees.

The phone clatters to the ground.

“V-Viktor.”

Viktor. Hospital. 

This cannot be.

Yakov picks up the phone and listens to what the nurse has to say. Yurio, on the other hand, has rushed to Yuri’s side and is rubbing his back with an unusual warmth, crouching beside the skater to comfort him. Yuri continues trembling, letting uncontrollable tears fall to the ground.

This cannot be.

When Yakov finally hangs up, he gestures to Yurio to bring him to a bench. He does.

Yuri looks up at the both of them, shaking, his face pale. 

“Viktor’s seriously injured,” is all Yakov can choke out before Yuri starts crying all over again, this time a heavy sob, his shoulders shaking as he buries his face into his hands. Yurio continues patting his back, all the while staring into his lap, incapable of speech.

“I-I have to go visit him,” Yuri whispers, standing up, but after a few steps towards the exit he stumbles and very nearly falls. Yurio grabs him by the arm.

“Are you stupid or what?” he growls. “I’ll help you over to the car - look at the state of you.”

He mutters a small “thank you” and limps out of the rink, pulling off his skates to stuff them back into the lockers and walk out to Yakov’s car.

Yakov shuts the door and drives off at an insane speed.

~~~~~~

When he bursts into the hospital and to the ICU unit Viktor’s in, it takes all the courage and strength in Yuri to not cry and collapse to the ground. 

Viktor looks pale. Scarily pale. Gone is the cheery tint in his cheeks, his lips, his eyes. Instead, they’re replaced by a tiny frown, a frown that makes Yuri want to sob and lie on the ground. He leans forward and kisses Viktor’s lips, but they’re cold, and Yuri curses the fan who had sucked the life out of his beloved.

Yurio seems pale, too. He goes up to Viktor’s bed and holds his hand, staring at him without a sound. Yuri catches sight of a tear sliding down Yurio’s cheek before it’s hastily wiped away.

Yakov can’t bear to go in a second time. 

After a while, Yuri looks up and tries to speak to Yurio, but the blond knows what he wants to say and nods even before he can get a word out. He leaves the room.

It’s just the two of them in the unit now.

Yuri grasps on Viktor’s hand.

“Viktor,” he mumbles before his mouth crinkles up and he’s choking back tears. He can’t do this. It’s too tough. Too hard.

“Viktor, I love you, too,” he says, leaning over Viktor, forcing himself to stay calm.

The heart monitor starts blaring and nurses and a doctor rushes in, telling Yuri that he must leave now, and they close the curtains around the bed.

Yuri cries properly now.

~~~~~~

It’s a long wait. Yurio’s pacing about and clenching his fists, mumbling to himself and staring at the surgery room doors every now and then. Yakov is sitting opposite Yuri, looking more pale than he’s ever witness him been.

And Yuri. Tears slide down his face once in a while, and he has had to deal with messages flooding his inbox regarding Viktor’s injuries. Family calls, and his mother and sister both assure him that they’ll be there whenever he needs them, and he feels at least a bit more comforted by that. But otherwise, he’s so frustrated. One person even tells him that maybe them being apart would be better for both of them.   
  
He switches off his phone and resists the urge to throw it across the corridor, letting a sob escape his throat.

“Has the culprit been found?” he croaks to the other two Russians, who shake their heads. 

“They’ve established from witnesses that it was a woman who did it, and she looked rather hysterical during the attack,” Yakov explained, putting his own phone into his pocket and staring at the floor.

Yuri feels his anger rising.

“I’m going to find her,” he snarls, standing up, but Yurio rushes forward and pins him back to the seats.

“Let the police do that,” Yurio hisses. “You can’t do anything to find her - you don’t have the authority!”  
  
He can’t do anything.

Right.

He’s useless.

Yuri sinks back into his seat. 

He can’t do anything to help Viktor. Avenge him, or whatever. He can’t. 

He can’t.

The lights turn off and the doctor bustles out of the surgery room, with other surgeons behind him. Yuri scrambles to his feet and rushes up to him. So do Yakov and Yurio.

“Is Viktor all right?” he asks. The doctor nods.

“The operation was a success, though the patient’s condition is not completely stable just yet, so we need to monitor him in the ICU for the time being.”

They exhale whatever tense air is inside their lungs.

“Thank you so much, doctor,” Yuri says. He nods again and walks off.

What a relief.

~~~~~~

Flowers and gift baskets had been sent over and now they stand in the sunlight on the desks around the bed outside the ICU. It’s a mess.

Yuri sits at Viktor’s side, staring at his face, willing him to _get up get up get up_. It’s painful looking at his pale cheeks, but he tries to pull himself together and inhales and exhales. It’s difficult, but he tries.

He tries.

When Yurio comes in he looks up with bleary eyes.

“How’re you doing?” he asks. He leaves out the grumpy tone and nickname. 

Yuri sighs. “Fine.”  
  
“Not,” Yurio mutters, finding a chair amidst the pile of gifts outside the room and sitting down on it after dragging it in. He watches Yuri sink further into his own seat.

“Have they found the woman?” he asks. Yurio shakes his head. 

“Not yet, but they’ve found some clues, like the fingerprints on the knife they found buried in the sand, and more eyewitnesses.”

He watches again as Yuri slumps forward.

“I’m so useless,” he says. “I can’t do anything to aid the investigation, and if weren’t for me falling in love with Viktor, this wouldn’t have happened.”

His grip on Viktor’s hand grows tighter.

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let him become my coach. I shouldn’t-“

“You bloody pig.”

Yuri’s head shoots up, bewildered, and he sees a fuming Yurio glaring at him.

“You stupid, bloody, selfish pig,” he snarls. “Viktor loves you, so much that he even abandoned my promise and went all the way from Russia to Japan to meet your sorry ass. He’s done so much for you, and now you’re saying that you regret letting him become your coach?”  
  
Yurio snorts.

“You’re a downright selfish, idiotic pig, and I don’t know why I’m even in the same room as you.”  
  
He stands up and walks towards the door.

“And don’t ever let Viktor know you said that.”  
  
Yurio slams the door behind him, and Yuri is left by himself, with Viktor by his side.

Right.

He’s being selfish.

He glances at the ring on his finger, then at the ring on Viktor’s bedside table, and then at Viktor. Right. He’s selfish as hell, and he’s idiotic, too. 

Right.

~~~~~~

Viktor wakes up.

He peels his eyes open and glances around the room, before a sharp pain punches into his abdomen. Right. 

He’s been stabbed in the liver, he reads off the chart near his bed.   
  
“Wow,” he exclaims to himself. “Didn’t know that woman was serious about killing me.”  
  
He turns to watch Yuri instead, who’s sitting on the chair and his head is on Viktor’s lap. He strokes the messy locks of hair, carefully pulls off his glasses and sets them on the desk beside the bed, picks up the golden ring and slips it back onto his finger.

Then Yuri wakes up.

Viktor watches as Yuri rubs his eyes, looking all around for his spectacles, thanking no one in particular when they’re pressed into his hands.

Then he realises.

His eyes widen and their eyes both meet, just for a brief moment, before Yuri lunges forward to hug Viktor and bury his nose in his hair. 

“Viktor, you’re awake!” he gasps, fresh tears welling up in his swollen eyes and slipping down his cheeks. “Thank goodness!”  
  
“I’m awake, yes,” Viktor replies. He’s never seen Yuri this emotional before, so he reaches up - ignoring the pain in his lower half - and pulls Yuri closer to hug him.

He feels Yuri breathing into his ear.

“They’ve got the attacker, Viktor, and she says it’s because she hates us becoming a couple and stuff like that,” Yuri mumbles. He pulls away just enough to bump his forehead against Viktor’s. “Do you ever regret being with me? Am I a burden?”  
  
Viktor stares at him like he’s gone nuts. Actually, yes, Yuri _has_ gone nuts.

“You’re not a burden. You never were. You’re not responsible for what happened to me.”

Yuri buries his nose into Viktor’s neck.

“I love you.”  
  
“I know. You told me over that phone call.”

Viktor laughs.

“Yeah, I did.”  
  
“But why didn’t you call the ambulance instead of me?”  
  
“Well, because I love you.”

They hug, and when the nurse comes in she smiles at their reunion and walks out to tell the doctor about Viktor’s awakening.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Don't kill me. Just come say hello on tumblr.
> 
> Don't kill me.
> 
> I cried too, okay!
> 
> Anyway, happy New Year, and have a great day!


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